To My Wayward Sons (Supernatural Poetry)

Sharp Dagger

(In lieu of my 1st year anniversary of being an SPN fan, lo and behold, the very first Supernatural poem I made. Ah, yes, back then when innocent me thought this was the worst dilemma that the Winchesters had to go through. I had no idea just how much worse it would get. *sighs at past me's naïveté*)

~*~

Killing demons, wraiths and phantoms

Using a cursed sharpened silver dagger

A glint, a slash, a single swipe at a skin

And the hideous beast will be no longer

Indeed, such a powerful knife is useful

For defeating hell or its evilest creatures

But what if the demon you had to kill

Just had to be your very own brother?

Would you murder, in your own blood?

Or let his tainted blood run even colder?

Is there another solution out this mess?

Or make a decision you'll regret forever?

...The blade rests patiently in your hands

Waiting silently in its magical endeavour

The first death blow shall be theirs to take

But the final answer will be yours to sever.